When He Wakes
by braidonfire
Summary: Kate wonders where she and her partner stand. Follows 3x22. Review?


_I actually started writing this about five minutes after the end of To Love And Die In LA..(speaking of which, HOW ABOUT THAT EPISODE, HUH?) I know about a bazillion other people did it too, but I hope you'll give it a chance._

_Disclaimer: I do not, and sadly I don't think I ever will, own Castle or any of its partners. I think Mr Marlowe's doing a particularily fine job on that one._

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><p><em>"It's clear that you and Castle have something real…but you're fighting it. The worst thing you could do is put the job before your heart. The last thing you want is to think back on your life and wonder…'If only.'"<em>

Her gaze flicks over to the man next to her as she folds the letter up and holds it between her fingers. She can just see the sun setting through the window across the aisle, and she sighs.

It's been a hell of a week, she thinks. The call about Mike had come so early in the morning. From then on, she'd been chasing lead after lead until finally, she had the shooter on the sand, a gun to his head. She would have shot him had he moved. But now, she's tired.

And so is he, she gathers. Based on the fact that he's lying slack-jawed in his leather seat, splayed out like a puppy, she guesses he's worn out. She's one thing – insomnia and pain has racked her for years. Him, not so much. She can deal with the short sleep time, the nightmares…she doesn't know about him.

She must have scared him. He'd seen her standing over a man, _after_ she'd already shot him once, with her finger over the trigger. He'd seemed collected, calm, about it after…but seeing the woman you…your _best friend_, she corrects herself, almost at the edge of killing point would shake a person to the core. And from his seemingly unsettling sleep, that's exactly the case.

His hand twitches as he grumbles something inaudible. He sniffles, shuts his eyes tighter and turns over, his face illuminated by the rays of orange streaming through the plastic pane.

She wishes his eyes were open. As much as she knows he needs this sleep, as much as she wants him to rest, she needs so badly to see his blue crystal eyes. She needs to fall in the comfort of them, like she's done so many times before. He's her person, her pillow when she falls. He's her rock when she just needs to stop standing.

Mike's right.

It's real.

She's in love with Richard Castle.

If she's being honest with herself, that terrifies her. It makes her want to jump up and run for the hills, like she's done so many times before. But she knows that all of her fears have to be set aside for now, because there's no going back anymore. She can't escape - not that she wants to. She's promised. She's told him _Always_. And she can never go back on that now.

It's slow, the change in her. It's been happening forever, but it's been so agonizingly speedless. She knows she never would have believed anyone who would have told her that she'd be with Richard Castle on a plane back from the Hills, thinking about loving him if they'd told her three years ago. And thinking back on it now, she hadn't been ready for anything when summer had come. She didn't want to think about where their relationship would be if she'd gone with him – it would either be crumbling apart, or it would be going strong, which the very thought of made her cringe. Part of her wishes she'd taken that leap, that she'd been able to force more out of her mouth before Gina had shown up. Maybe they'd be farther than they are now. But the other part, perhaps the logical one, tells her that it's for the best that they didn't connect in that way. They know more about each other now. They're partners.

They hadn't been before.

So it's been slow, this change. But she feels it.

Then, she hears him stir. She snaps out of her reverie to watch him turn, a pained look on his face. Even though his eyes are closed, she can tell that whatever's going on in his head isn't the best thing that's ever happened to him.

"_Kate_."

She freezes.

She doesn't want to breathe, doesn't want to think, for fear of waking him. But this one word shocks her. Hearing her own name fall from his lips is the sweetest serenity she's ever experienced. She knows he's in love with her. Hell, she's known for ages. The whole _precinct_ knows, and his family, and practically anyone that's seen them together at any given point knows.

It doesn't make it any less shocking.

She's not sure what to do with herself now. She has no idea what she would say if he were to wake up, but she's never been much for words. Only touch. So she slips down farther into her leather seat and grasps his hand.

He still doesn't become fully alert. He must be exhausted, she thinks – but then, following the girl you love all the way across the country to catch a killer would most certainly do something like this to you. She winds her fingers through his and curls up into her seat, closing her eyes.

When he wakes up, she'll tell him.

She'll tell him everything she's been thinking of.

She'll tell him that maybe, just maybe, she loves him as much as he her.

When he wakes.

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><p><em>Thoughts?<em>


End file.
